Act 3: Final Encores

Friday 3rd March 1995, 04:23 AM

Foxy knew that he was alone.

Hours upon hours had passed since Chica had gone off in search of their missing friends, vanished like thin air over the course of a few days. When the whir of the night power generator had signalled, announcing the arrival of a new night, he knew in his heart that she wasn't coming back.

Someone else was in the building. Someone who had lured them one by one to their final demise. Although he had no way of knowing until he met that person himself, something told the old pirate animatronic that he already knew.

Perhaps they're still alive, Foxy pondered, but after all of these years and everything he had lost, he knew you could only come back so many times. Something inside him had died, last year. It had died alongside the closest thing he had to a soulmate, impaled by a metal rod meant for him.

Everything that had happened since was merely the consequences of their lifetimes of mistakes. All of the suffering they had caused. The only saving grace was the relief that Mike had gotten out. Although Foxy would be the first to admit that he missed the night guard, he knew it was for the best.

Because he knew that no matter what happened the moment he left that cove, it would all end tonight.

For some time, he had considered simply staying in that cove and waiting for his would-be murderer to come to him. An advantage of his home turf would potentially be crucial. But once the hours had slowly kept rolling by and there was no sign of the attacker anywhere, Foxy had come to realise that the only way this could go was by him taking the first move.

Staring at the opening in the cove's curtains, Foxy struggled up to his mangled feet and gave a low grumble. He pulled the curtains apart, opening them fully, and stood at the edge of the cove, rotating his hook impatiently. If this was to be his final stand, so be it.

But if ye landlubber think Ol' Foxy be walkin' the plank without a fight, he growled, then ya be the only fool in this accursed harbour.

Jumping out from the cove, Foxy landed on his feet, the sound of metal on tile creating a screeching noise. Looking around for any sign of movement, he was almost disappointed to see nary a shadow.

Whoever his hunter be, it would seem that they didn't have the guts to face him honourably. Perhaps waiting for him in a shadowy corner, as pretty as an ambush you could set up in these halls. None of his three friends had called out for help, at least loud enough for him to hear. They must have been all caught off guard.

If that was the case, he could use it to his advantage. When you're expecting an ambush, a rare opportunity to turn it around on the attacker was always possible.

All he needed…was a moment.

Turning around to face the hallway leading towards the security office, Foxy recalled how all the others had started there. If he retraced their steps, assuming that every little thing that happened along the way was for a reason, perhaps he could end this.

Striding down the hallway, Foxy started to remember the good times, as few and far between they were. Not only in these halls, but in the ones of their temporary home. Where they had met the Toy animatronics. He almost smiled, as much as he could with a plastic jaw, at how their first impression of them had been of hostility.

Waking up in a new, scary place and finding out you had been replaced with smaller, friendlier versions of yourself had been unnerving, to say the least. Or it had been for his three friends, who had never before experienced what it was like to be the odd one out. As much as Foxy hated to admit it, especially the idea of relating to the sad, miserable cretin who had caused them all so much sorrow, but the only one who he had been able to relate to in that regard had been Golden Freddy.

That had been until he had met Mangle.

Stumbled upon them, more like. Foxy had seen the posters of his replacement plastered on the walls, soon before the Purple Man had struck. When he had first met Mangle, they were in the process of putting themselves back together again. The moment they met and talked, Foxy knew it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Mangle had seen him differently from the start, calling him a gentleman and a saint whilst the others had seen him as a rebel.

His greatest regret had been not being there for his friend after they had discovered that Jeremy Fitzgerald, their target whom they had hunted night after night, had been innocent. Foxy could recall the messy state Mangle had been in after they had attacked Jeremy, almost killing him.

That had been the worst part of having their memory taken by Golden Freddy; Foxy had forgotten about his friend. After Mike had freed them and their memory had slowly began to come back, discovering all they had left behind without even knowing had stung.

Losing them again after so much time had killed him.

All of those years afterwards had been tough, shut away in Pirate's Cove with the only reason offered being a sign saying, 'out of service'.

The flash of a shadow, or at least the reflection of it, immediately alerted the pirate. Staring at where he had seen it, he could barely make out the shape shimmering within the reflective tiles on the walls that had been exposed due to the tattered wallpaper.

In those tiles was the shape of Bonnie, staring back at him. Confused, Foxy looked around, trying to understand what was making the shape. But its source was not obvious; there was no lingering figure watching him from the other end of the hallway. Yet the shade of Bonnie continued to stare at him.

But was it even Bonnie? There was something off about the figure, but he was unable to place his finger on what was bothering him. When the stalemate of eye contact between the two didn't end, Foxy grew bored and walked away. Whatever the shade was, it wasn't going to answer the questions raging in his head.

Flashes of his old life, the one he so long had repressed circled him like vultures. It hadn't just been the deaths of his friends which had caused him to become so reclusive. It had been easier to deal with any of this when he believed himself to be Captain Foxy, eccentric pirate explorer. It had even been easier to believe that he was just some old robotic entertainer long past his prime.

But now he knew he was something else entirely and that very existence filled him with nothing other than pain at what could never be.

However, it wasn't that exactly what was bothering him. There had been something about that shade. Some flicker of recognition, perhaps.

Maybe it had reminded him of the invader, he who had posed as a friend to gain their trust.

As Foxy reached the security office, memories of his first proper meeting with Mike Schmidt made him smile. How he had come barging in, swinging his hook and howling his oaths after Freddy's plan had worked. He had been expecting a very sorry-looking endoskeleton. What he had instead been greeted with was three well-placed shots which had taken him down.

But he had awoken, soon after. To find that his foe, the very one he had been hunting, was not an endoskeleton, but rather a young, scared, and angry human. One who was very much prepared to shoot him again.

Mike had impressed Foxy with his grit and will. So much so that he had chosen to stand with him against his very family, all of whom were still convinced by Golden Freddy's trick.

After gazing around the security office a bit more, the animatronic accepted that he was going to get no answers there. Stepping back out, he could feel the presence of something watching him immediately. Turning to look down the hallway, he saw the huge figure standing at the end of it.

When Foxy's one good eye settled on the figure, rage filled him. Flashing his hook, he prepared for a fight.

"You," He growled, "what did ye bleedin' bilgerat do with me crew?"

But the figure, who could be no one other than Golden Freddy, simply turned and walked away. Seeing red, Foxy sped up to catch up with the figure, but the shadowy bear had already gotten halfway across the dining hall.

Stopping, Foxy considered this. He knew right there and then that this must have been the same trap the others fell for. Lured away, distracted with questions. Slowing himself down, he approached the restrooms with unease.

Reaching the corner, Foxy grumbled when he saw darkness too dark for even he to see through. With a mechanical whir, his eye flashed, illuminating the hallway.

His eye settled on the head on the ground, separated from its body. Bonnie had clearly gotten the closest to escaping before he had been taken down. Had he been a few steps further, they likely would have seen him sooner.

Dismay filled the metal heart of Foxy as he continued to look at his friend. Continuing into the hallway, he saw the corpse of Freddy right next to a large opening in the wall which hadn't been there before.

Or had it?

"I'm sorry, bosun." Foxy choked out mournfully, "I should've been there."

He stared at the opening for while more. Stepping into the hallway, he looked from side to side. Choosing not to go closer to the opening, he went the opposite way, towards the restrooms. Glancing around in one of them, he saw the broken form that was once Chica.

She died alone, Foxy cursed himself, filled with such anger and sorrow that he hadn't been by her side at the end, she died alone and I could have stopped it.

After checking the other restroom, he heard the noise towards the opening. The foe who had taken the lives of his friends was in there; there was no other possibility. He knew in his heart who it had been.

The Purple Man had used the same tricks to lure them away as children ten years ago to lure them once more.

Instead of walking towards that opening, Foxy turned around and stumbled to the ground. He crossed his legs as best as he could, closing his eye, and he waited.

He wait for what felt like hours, simply sitting there among the corpses of his friends, with his eye closed. But his mind raced, his thoughts with his friends and what was to come.

I'm the last one, he bitterly realised. All the others were gone. And it would seem it was his turn.

"Maybe it's time." He muttered, barely audible to even himself, "Perhaps I've lived too long. At least this way…"

He felt the footsteps coming down the hallway, pounding the ground. His eye opening slightly, and he nodded, knowing it was time.

"…I get to see my friends again."

Foxy stood up, rotating his hook in anticipation. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the shadowy figure at the entry way of the room which had opened up. Veiled by darkness, the man was silent, but Foxy could make out the sly smirk on his lips as he emerged from the darkness.

Words he had long forgotten which had been spoken to him, spoken to all of them, flashed in his mind. During their misguided crusade against Jeremy Fitzgerald, when they believed him to be the Purple Man. When they first failed to capture him, the Marionette had comforted them with those very same words.

"He will come back." The Marionette had whispered in their lullaby-like voice, "He always does."

"We have a place for him."

All of this had started with a moment. That moment had been ten years ago, when the man standing in front of Foxy had lured him, and four others, into the room which had laid hidden just behind his killer.

"This is where it all began." Foxy murmured, not sure if he was talking to himself or the monster in front of him, "All of it. Every little bit of suffering we've endured. It all started…with you."

The Purple Man didn't say anything, though Foxy could swear his smile grew deeper.

"But the one thing I can't understand…is why. Why did you do all of this?"

Moments passed and when Foxy accepted that he wasn't going to respond, a scowl crossed his face and he huffed. "I guess it don't matter. It ends here. No matter how it ends, it ends here. You created us. Made us these monsters. And now…"

A deep rage, buried for so long, emerged in Foxy's chest and a maniacal laugh escaped his throat as his voice, glitchy and erratic, spoke those last few words.

"And now you reap what you sow."

And Foxy lunged, brandishing his hook, straight at the man who had killed him. With his own weapon in hand, a red fire axe, the Purple Man met his hook with a heavy swing. Parrying the blow, Foxy made him stumble, but his own attempt to finish the fight early was evaded by a quick dodge.

Stumbling, the Purple Man backed into the wall. Foxy gave a backhanded swing, barely missing the Purple Man and cracking one of the tiles on the walls. Stepping backwards, the Purple Man now stood further towards the restrooms, his escape now cut off.

Foxy could swear he saw the smirk gone from his foe's face, but he took no note of it. Instead, he rotated his hook again, readying for another attack.

Hook and Axe met each other again and again, blow after blow parried and blocked. As seconds turned to minutes, Foxy wondered if his enemy was starting to grow tired as his attacks came less common and he was put more on the defensive.

Then, after another swing of his axe came, the Purple Man almost lost his balance after his foot got caught on the arm of Bonnie.

That was all Foxy needed. With a quick, calculated lunge, Foxy swung his hook and sliced the chest of the Purple Man, missing his throat by mere inches after he twisted in an attempt to avoid the blow. Falling backwards, the Purple Man tried to get back up off the floor. Foxy lunged again and the Purple Man had to lift his axe up in a desperate attempt to block.

Crawling away, the Purple Man stumbled to his feet, clutching the wound on his chest. It had been hard not to notice that he had barely grunted when cut. Slowly getting back to his feet, he looked almost unfazed by the sudden ground Foxy had gained on him.

But then, when Foxy tried to step forward, to close the gap between them and put an end to this, something stopped him. His whole body, in spite of his desperate attempts to the contrary, stopped him from getting any closer.

Looking down, he realised that he was standing just on the edge of the entryway into the hidden room. One simple message flashed in his vision.

Error

He couldn't enter the room. Something in his programming prevented him from taking a step further. Rage filled his chest again as he fought the urge to roar his frustration, only enhanced when he saw the knowing smirk on the Purple Man's face, understanding his handicap.

It doesn't matter, Foxy gritted his teeth, because you can't leave that room without going through me and I'm not going anywhere.

The Purple Man seemed to understand that, too, and he quickly acted. Grabbing the wrench on a table just inside the room, the Purple Man hurled it with incredible strength at Foxy, aiming for his head. Twisting to the side, Foxy evaded the thrown wrench and quickly met the lunge of the Purple Man with a parry.

With a renewed source of stamina, the Purple Man kept striking, slowly driving him back. But Foxy, still filled with energy, met each blow with a parry. He wasn't going to be defeated so easily-

His eyes widened as his leg twisted and sent a shiver of pain through his system. Before he could move his other leg to adjust for the weakness, the Purple Man struck at that exact leg. The axe sliced into it and Foxy felt himself fall down, the leg cut in half.

That same bleedin' leg, he cursed. The one which had caused him so many problems in the years.

Seeing the swing of the axe, Foxy tried to raise his hook, but was too late. The axe sliced his arm off at the forearm, taking his hook with it. He tried to raise his other arm, but the axe came down and embedded itself into his chest, sending him crashing to the ground.

The Purple Man tried to pull the axe out of his chest, but a few yanks made it clear that it was stuck. With nary a grunt, the Purple Man looked over to the wrench he had thrown and picked it up with both hands. He walked over to the downed fox and raised the wrench, his reflection shimmering in Foxy's eye as he brought it down.

But Foxy didn't care.

Friends, he thought to himself, feeling a weight taken off him, it won't be long now. I'll be there soon. I'm

Coming

Home

Err

Friday 6th March 2015, 20:47 PM

As Mike made his way to his destination, his mind raced through everything he had discovered over the course of the last few days. Rather than writing it down—due to his erratic way of coping with everything and the fact that he was worried someone would happen across it—he kept all his beliefs and theories locked up in his brain.

Soon after he had woken from his slumber, a nightmarish and random experience of which he could not tell the purpose of, he had immediately set out to watch the tapes again, still hunched over the laptop. There was something he was missing, something of which he needed to find out before he lost the trail.

At some point, Ella had knocked on the door and found him there. She seemed concerned, especially when she seemed to realise that he had been in there all night. However, her attempts to convince him to leave had been fruitless, so eventually she left. It was only when the pain in his belly, screaming for energy, had gotten unbearable that he finally left to eat.

Then it had been back to the tapes, trying to memorise every little detail in them. Trying to discover something he missed.

These tapes were a time capsule, containing the story he left behind twenty years ago. Having been recorded only months after the incident with Golden Freddy which led to him having to flee, it showed what became of the animatronics. For so long, he had believed a certain narrative, based upon what he understood was going to happen.

After what had happened, the Government used their power to officially confiscate the animatronics, as well as all other Fazbear property deemed important enough for investigation. So what Mike had been under the impression of was that they were taken away, to be examined before they would be dismantled, melted down, and forgotten about.

What instead had happened was something which still confused him. It seemed that they never left the pizzeria, being kept there likely for storage. Perhaps they had been deemed too dangerous, or simply too volatile to be moved? Whatever the reason was, it meant they probably never were under the impression that their future would hold anything other than monotony and boredom.

Another thought had popped up in Mike's head at one point, which had intrigued him. Perhaps the reason why they weren't moved was because they were being examined? Watched by whoever had taken possession of them to understand how they worked? They would have been considered to be an unknown quantity.

It would explain some things, such as the camera systems and recordings taken. Garfield had left after Freddy's was exposed, to ride off into the sunset. He was likely dead soon after. But someone must have taken those recordings, storing them away to be used for some purpose.

If so, though, the one thing that concerned Mike was why the Springlock animatronic that had been hunting him hadn't been found earlier. As far as Mike was aware, Reggie hadn't recovered the broken endoskeletons of his friends. Which meant that someone else must have taken them, maybe soon after they were destroyed. However, from what Mike had gathered, the Springlock animatronic had been in that back room. The same one which had been exposed.

So there was no way that animatronic hadn't been discovered.

Unless it had been, Mike contemplated with unease, and they didn't want anyone else to stumble upon it.

Had that suit been there the whole time? Sealed in a hidden room within the same halls he once faced death within? The only reason why he knew of the room's existence was because of those tapes.

His heart grew cold when he remembered how those tapes, starting in February, showed the fates of his friends. Without them noticing, the Purple Man had returned, staying within the shadows before enacting his plan. One by one, he lured them towards the unsealed back room, aided willingly or otherwise by the purple shade of what Mike believed to be Golden Freddy.

Then, unable to escape or to call for help, the animatronics were each attacked, crippled, and dismantled by the Purple Man. The first had been Freddy, ambushed from behind. Then Bonnie had fallen, his attempt to warn the others prevented. It had broken Mike's heart to see Chica attempt to crawl away before being finished in the restrooms. Then Foxy had fallen, but not before giving his very best attempt to avenge his family.

Mike had watched his friends die, over and over again. Every little detail was still stuck in his head.

He knew where the answers laid. All of them were hidden in that back room, and what happened in there. Thirty years ago, the Purple Man had used that back room to lure his first victims away before trapping and eventually killing them. Whether he had used that Springlock suit, the Golden Freddy suit, or some other rotting animal costume was of little issue. Everything that had happened all started in that back room.

So when he finally mustered up the courage to play that final tape, of which he knew the answers lay within, it had been the biggest kick to the teeth to find it too corrupted to play. It felt like any hope he had died right there with that analogue failure.

But he knew he couldn't stop. He knew in his heart what the Springlock animatronic was: Another possessed costume, from a soul long ago killed. Though he couldn't tell for sure who it was embedded inside, something in Mike's heart told him he knew, perhaps from the beginning, who it was.

If his heart was true, he feared what he would do next in his pure, uncontrollable rage.

So, before his shift, he was heading to the apartment Reggie had told him about to meet his employer one more time before he began his plan. Though whatever the answer was to his question would still lead to the same outcome, he first needed to know exactly what he was walking into.

Arriving at the door after climbing up the steps, Mike knocked firmly. As it turned out, Reggie was not living in a lap of luxury. Worn down and beaten up, his apartment looked even worse than Mike's old one he was living in back when he was working at Freddy's.

After a few moments, someone came to the door and opened it up a crack. An eye poked out and when it settled on Mike, it disappeared before the door closed. Then, after the shuffling of the lock, the door swung open fully and Reggie was there with his shaky grin.

"Yo, dude!" He beamed, "How's my favourite employee?"

"I'm doing okay." Mike lied, hoping the tired mess he actually was wouldn't be so easy to spot, "May I come in? I've got just a couple of questions before my next shift."

"Of course, dude, of course!" Stepping inside, Reggie allowed Mike to walk through the door before shutting it. As Mike walked in, an unmistakable stench filled the room which he scrunched his nose up at. Turning around, he faced Reggie, who was looking slightly jumpy.

"So, uh," Reggie cleared his throat, "what did you want to talk about?"

Before answering, Mike looked around for anyone else in the apartment, "This animatronic that you found. The springlock one."

"Oh, yeah! It's awesome, isn't it? Stinks, though. Major bad vibe, dude. I, like, brought a hose to it, and sprayed some of that air conditioner stuff on it, but it, like, didn't do anything."

Nodding, Mike could only imagine what Reggie had attempted to air the place out every day, "If you don't mind me asking, where do you find it? It must be…old. Really old. I thought that any of this Fazbear stuff was taken away ages ago?"

Reggie eagerly nodded, "Yeah, it's been hard to get my hands on anything like it since I started the place up. The Government, man. They snatched up anything they could find first. I don't know what happened to the originals. You know, the ones back in the eighties? And the only thing I could find of them and the ones from the pizzeria in, like, 1987 was the costumes. I made those scarecrows out of them!"

"Then…" Mike pondered, "in that case, how come they never found the springlock suit?"

"It was hidden behind a wall, dude." Reggie grinned broader than he ever had done before, "I could tell right away there was something like it. My uncle had the blueprints to the place, in his old things. Had the room on them. Someone had put up a fake wall to hide it, but it was tough to get through. Proper concrete."

"And the room was in the pizzeria from the eighties, right? The one with the originals?"

"Yeah, the golden age!"

"What do you know about it? The animatronic, I mean."

"Well…" Reggie held his hand up to the chin, "I think it's one from the seventies. Late seventies, before they made the originals. There was the rabbit and I think the bear. Small stage, small restaurant. I don't know what happened to it, but I think it might have been that one that closed before the originals got popular. The name was, like-"

"Fredbear's Family Diner?" Mike asked instantly.

Reggie nodded, "Yeah, it might have been that. How did you know?"

"I've heard about the place before." Mike shrugged, "Thanks for the time. I'm heading to work now."

"Yeah, sure, dude! Stop by anytime!"

Leaving, Mike quickly walked down the steps and out of the apartment complex, his mind racing once again. Though the answers had been helpful, they weren't enough for him to settle on a decision regarding what he was facing.

His theories about the Springlock suit had been correct. It was years old and it likely was used by the Purple Man in one of his murder sprees. But there was still the question of how it was moved back into the back room. It either was there the whole time, or was put in there after Mike had left and the Purple Man had returned.

If so, there was also the question of who sealed the room back up afterwards. Someone must have decided to ensure that the springlock suit was never found. But the only question was why?

But the only way Mike knew he could find out was by watching that last tape and unless the recordings had been taped elsewhere, the answers were now lost.

Unless…

Mike remembered the symbols that had been etched into the walls of the pizzeria, vanishing and appearing for the animatronics. Whatever they had been there for had been lost on his friends, who met their vicious ends soon after. But, as crazy as it sounded, what if the clues were meant for him? The Marionette had told him to find the pieces.

It was crazy. Illogical. But without any other option, Mike knew he needed to try. He had the notebook with all the notes he had written down while watching the tapes in his pocket. Something told him that if the clues truly meant something, they would lead him to the answers he needed. And those answers could only be found within the halls of Fazbear Frights.

Mike would find those answers. He would solve this mystery.

Then, he would burn the place to the ground with the springlock animatronic still inside.

Less than ten chapters to go. Things are about to get Fazbearry.

TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3: I appreciate it, mate! That act was probably the most interesting I've had to write so far. The fact that it was the first one to be almost exclusively about the game itself rather than being outside of it meant that I had to get quite creative with the way to go about it. And it was nice to think that even after all this time, the Marionette still hasn't lost his belief in Mike. And as Mike goes up against the greatest threat he's ever encountered, he will be lucky if he gets out alive. Either way, it's all coming to a head.